Wreck-It Reaper
by thebluninja
Summary: Two teens plug their PS3s into Litwak's arcade and have to leave their games running. Commander Shepard and Cole McGrath step into the Game Station, but so do Harbinger and Kessler.
1. Plugged In

_Author's Note: I decided to finally write this crossover out, just so that I'd stop having random scenes of it pop up in my head. _

* * *

The door to Litwak's Arcade was shoved open, a burst of cold air carrying snowflakes inside, causing more than one child to shiver at the controls of the arcade games. Two teenagers, each carrying a suitcase-sized case, stumbled in, shoving the door closed behind them and stomping snow off their shoes before practically leaping up the two short steps to the rest of the arcade.

"Are you sure he's cool with this?" the first teen asked, yanking off a knit cap and shoving it into a pocket of his heavy jacket.

"Yeah, Uncle Larry's weird, but he's pretty cool." The other teen waved his free hand around at the arcade. "I mean, this is practically his _life_, yanno? Mom complained that he almost skipped Thanksgiving to open the arcade."

"Crazy," the first one replied. "So where can we set up?"

They moved through the arcade towards the back, where a door marked _Employees Only_ was just closing. "Hey there, John," Mr. Litwak greeted the second teen. "You sure about this? The place is awfully lonely overnight for just the two of you."

"It's _Jason_," he complained through a smile. "You _always_ get my name wrong, Uncle Larry."

"No, I just think your mom should have named you after Gramps," Mr. Litwak said, sliding a key into the lock and pulling it back open. "Oh, your power cords have to run under the door, the outlet in there is on the fritz. Plug it into that power strip, behind Fix-It Felix."

The two teens quickly shed their jackets, already sweltering in the arcade, flinging them haphazardly over chairs while they set down the suitcases and popped them open, running the cords under the door and into the last two spots on an overdrawn surge protector capable of giving any fire inspector an instant coronary.

"So Mark, you beat Infamous yet?" Jason asked, starting up his own PS3 and kicking his feet up on a long-dead TRS-80.

"Almost. Gotta hunt down one last First Son bastard for the last side mission, which takes _forever_," he griped, "then I can kick Kessler's ass again and switch over to Infamous 2."

"Awesome. Mass Effect 3 came out yesterday, and this time Burt didn't sell off my pre-order, so soon as I finish Legion's loyalty mission, I raid the Collector base, and export the save." He paused to dig around in a pocket of his coat, pulling out a can of Mountain Dew. "Here's to a weekend of non-stop gaming, with no parents to ruin it with chores."

"Amen," Mark uttered, fist-bumping the can and pulling out a beef jerky stick from the voluminous pockets of his own winter coat. Seconds later, both of them were loading up their games, and engrossed in playing.

So engrossed were they, that half an hour later, when Mr. Litwak shoved open the door to the back room, they both jumped at the sudden _squeeeaaaallll-KATHUMP_ of the door as it slammed shut. "Hey, John," he started.

"What is it, Uncle Larry?" Jason complained, skipping the rest of the cut scene as Joker unlocked the AI and rescued the ship from the Collectors.

"You're driving your mom's black Elantra, right?"

By this point, Mark had also stopped playing, having picked up the last hidden package in the ruined parking garage, leaving Cole to stand on screen looking bored. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, it's getting towed right now after someone skidded out and plowed into it," he uttered laconically. "Just figured you'd want to know."

In an instant, the two teens were out of the creaky chairs, yanking the door open and pulling on their jackets at a run, nearly knocking an unfortunate blond girl on her ass as they blew past her outside. Larry calmly slid his glasses off, polishing them on the hem of his shirt. "Huh, wonder what they're all worked up about," he said. "Oh well. One more hour until closing.

When the teens still hadn't arrived when he went to lock up the doors, Mr. Litwak simply shrugged. He turned off half the lights, set the alarm, slid the security gate closed, and walked two blocks home in a picturesque Seattle January snowstorm.

* * *

_Simultaneously, the Normandy CIC_

Commander Lyla Shepard stared out at the camera screen, fighting the urge to start bouncing impatiently. "How long is this little shit going to keep us waiting?" she muttered to herself. Then the lights in the room went out. "Oh for cripes sake," she muttered. "EDI, I'm going to my cabin, lemme know if there's any sign of life in the real world."

"Understood, Commander. Should I send any of the men to your quarters to keep you company?" The AI paused. "Or have you progressed to the women now?" The only response from Shepard was a raised middle finger, which EDI quite wisely decided not to respond to.

Inside the elevator, Lyla reached for the floor buttons, and paused with her finger half an inch above the number 1. _When did we get a sixth deck?_ she pondered. _And just what the hell is 'Game Central Station'?_ Her curiosity, always her most dangerous attribute, was piqued, and she posed both questions out loud to the AI.

"Commander, I do not have a sixth deck. My monitoring cameras in the elevator confirm a new button, yet my systems do not identify what it is or how it might be reached." Had the AI been as smart as she thought, EDI would have phrased the answer differently. Instead, Lyla heard the entire thing condensed as a simple "PUSH THE BUTTON."

So she did.

Two seconds later, the elevator opened onto what looked like a rapid transit station on the Citadel, save that this one had no windows. An open-topped set of cars, which resembled nothing so much as roller-coaster cars, sat on a single set of rails, which ran into a bizarre looking circular tunnel that curved away out of sight. "Alright, EDI, where am I now?"

"You are still in the elevator, Commander," the AI replied literally. "If you are referring to what is outside the elevator, my sensors indicate that you will be stepping out into formless, codeless void, yet the monitoring devices in the elevator clearly show some kind of transport station."

Shrugging, Shepard stepped out of the elevator, swapping her avatar over to the one carrying weapons and shield, readying her SMG and looking around. All in all, the room was … _boring_. "EDI, send me Garrus, Tali, and Mordin."

"Your quarters would be more comfortable, and Tali's immune system is not primed for so many different sources of allergic contamination." There was a pause, followed by Shepard calmly putting a bullet through the elevator wall. "That was a joke."

"No, it was a plan for later," Lyla muttered. "Tell Zaeed, Grunt, and Samara to come down here and stand guard over the elevator, too. I don't want anything sneaking past us to come on board."

"Understood, Commander." Lyla fidgeted, walking up and down the hundred or so feet of track, staring down the darkness of the tunnel, occasionally lit by brief bursts of blue light, too far away to be more than hints of light.

The elevator opened again to reveal the six crewmembers. "Zaeed, you're in charge. If anything hostile-looking comes through here, question it and kill it, in some order, before it gets on board."

"Does that include you?" the merc dead-panned, earning another annoyed glare from Lyla.

"You can't leave him in charge," Grunt protested. "I'm too young to die!"

Shepard blinked at the krogan. "What makes you think you're going to die?"

"Have you _listened_ to his stories?"

"No." Zaeed glared at her while Garrus, Tali, and Mordin all tried to smother laughter.

"Every _single_ story is about him being the only survivor of some gruesome mercenary mission! If you leave him in charge, I'm going to die!" The krogan youth glanced at Samara. "Her too, but at least she's old." Samara gave him a biotic slap from twenty feet away.

"Relax, Shepard, I've got this. Can I bring some goddamn cargo crates out here for cover?" Zaeed asked.

She shrugged. "Sure, why not. Make Jacob carry them, so he's good for something."

Motioning to the other three aliens, she boarded the front car, and when they had climbed in behind her, hit the single button on the panel. _At least they keep it simple_. It slid forward, then suddenly accelerated to what felt like about a million miles an hour for about half a second, coming to a sudden gut-wrenching stop in a matching station. Except instead of an elevator, this one had an arch that looked out onto what looked like a giant shopping mall.

Weapons ready, they moved out, stepping through the shimmering curtain onto the stretch of the new station. Bizarre forms were roaming around – a trio of zombies were shuffling past, moaning about something and gesticulating carefully to avoid losing pieces of themselves; two brightly-colored ghosts were blooping and bleeping with some orange thing that resembled a whoopee cushion with legs and eyes; an overweight Italian man in overalls was arguing with an anime girl wearing what looked like a frosting hat; and a tall armored space marine was making out with a man half her height.

"What the spirits is this place?" Garrus muttered.

"Welcome to the Game Station!" echoed a booming voice, and a shadow loomed over the four of them. Turning, they came face to … well, waist, with a giant red-haired slob of a man. _His hands are the size of Tali's whole torso!_ Lyla thought desperately. "I didn't know we got any new arcade games in here. I'm Ralph." He grinned and extended one massive hand cheerfully.

"Holy fuck," she said, "it's a human bigger than Wrex." Her mouth opened and closed a few more times, then automatically, she extended and shook his hand, sort of, more like his hand engulfed her entire forearm and shook her worse than the SR-1 being shot down. "Commander Shepard."

A crowd of people was already gathering around. "What's your arcade game?" the blond space marine asked. She was, annoyingly, taller than Shepard, almost as tall as the gargantuan Ralph. "I'm from Hero's Duty."

"We, ah," Lyla swallowed heavily. "We're from Mass Effect. It's on the PS3." That drew blank looks. "Playstation? Home gaming console?" Still more blank looks, causing her to sigh.

"Our stay here likely temporary. Portable, carried console. Owners forced to depart hurriedly, left games running," Mordin supplied. "Nice to meet new sentients."

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood!" the space marine's short boyfriend chimed in, cheerful enough to make Lyla's teeth ache. "Do you know who those other new guys are?" He pointed to the next arch down, the last one at this end of the promenade, where three men were stepping out.

* * *

_Similar time frame, Empire City_

Cole was getting bored. Bouncing balls of electricity around like a hacky-sack was fun, sure, but he'd been doing this for an _hour_ already. "C'mon, kid, get with the program," he muttered. "Lemme kick Kessler's ass and move on."

It didn't really come as a surprise when his phone beeped on with an incoming call. "Hello, ignorant brat," Kessler greeted him.

"What's up, old man," he responded. "Forget where you parked your walker?"

"I thought you would be interested to know," the terrorist conduit continued, ignoring the insult, "that the bridge to the mainland has a new addition to it. There's a tram station of some kind leaving Empire City."

Cole frowned at this, leaning against the cracked concrete post. "That's not in the script," he mused. "And lemme guess, if I don't show up, you're going to cruise on over and do all sorts of terrible things."

"I am getting bored waiting for our confrontation," was the reply.

"No shit, Sherlock, I'm bored, ergo you, aka old-me, am also bored." He leaped out of the parking garage, heading for the ruined bridge and the surprisingly still intact power cables. "Give me a few minutes to get there. And bring Zeke along."

"Even though he betrayed you?"

Cole snorted. "He didn't betray me, he sided with me. Against me. God damnit, I hate all this you're-really-me bullshit."

"Tell me about it," Kessler retorted before hanging up.

Five minutes later, they both stood on the bridge, helpfully opened by the cops when it was obvious that their gamer wasn't going to be returning anytime soon. Zeke pulled up in a borrowed cop car a minute later, and they stared at the open-topped cars, the track, and the tunnel that appeared to literally open into nothing. "It's like one of them Star Trek wormholes," Zeke said, scratching at one mutton-chop.

"Thanks, Elvis," Kessler said. "It's obvious, with the lights off, that our favorite controller-wielding idiot isn't going to be back here for quite a while." He waved a hand at the cars. "Shall we go find out what's going on?"

Cole stared at his older self through narrowed eyes. "What kind of mischief are you planning?"

"Moi?" the older man dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Why Cole, I'm _hurt_ by such an accusation. I mean, if you can't trust yourself, who can you trust?" All three of them snorted in almost unison.

"Damn, man, I think my sarcasm meter just exploded," Zeke said. "What are we waiting for? Let's check it out!"


	2. Nice to Meet You

_Author's Note: It's a slow start for our heroes, but then, they don't know who else has infiltrated Game Central along with them. I might do some Bad-Anon next chapter, after I read up on all the various villains who I'm only passingly aware of._

* * *

Cole, Kessler, and Zeke stepped out onto the station, their archway the last one on a grand promenade stretching at least a dozen arches long on each side. At the next one down, a crowd of people, both various caricatures of humanity and utterly non-human figures, stood around talking, and several of them were looking at the trio. "This is utterly fascinating," Kessler murmured. "I can't help but wonder what the Ray Sphere would do if I activated it here."

"C'mon, man, you can't do that," Zeke chided. "I mean, you'd kill Mario. Freaking Mario!" He pointed at the plumber, who looked up at his name and waved cheerfully. "I know you're supposed to be this freaky noble terrorist and all, but he's a _legend_. You just can't kill a legend."

The gargantuan red-haired man stomped over to them, and Cole's hands lit up with electricity. He didn't want to be unfriendly, but the man was the size of those metal golem constructs. "Oh, wow, you've got electric-glowy-power-things on your hands! I wish I had some of those. I've just got these wrecking balls." He reached out, grabbing Cole in a meaty handshake, twitching slightly as the electricity discharged. "Whoa, that was pretty cool. Do you double as a masseuse, because that felt really good."

"Who are you?" Cole wondered out loud, still wondering how his electricity was no more than a minor impediment.

"He introduced himself as Ralph," said a female voice, the redhead in armor walking around the bulk of the man a moment later. "Apparently, this is some kind of arcade central hub for all the characters to get together. I'm Commander Shepard."

"Cole McGrath, my best friend Zeke, and my nemesis Kessler," he gestured to the others. "You look, um, pretty normal." He waved a hand around vaguely.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sergeant Calhoun said menacingly. "Are you saying I'm not normal?"

"I think my younger self phrased that poorly," Kessler interjected. "Realistic would have been a better choice."

"Hey, no flirting with my wife," Felix said, thrusting thumbs in his belt loops and glaring up. "Or I might just classify you as a villain."

"But I _am_ a villain," he replied with a grin.

"Oh cool, so am I!" Ralph said. "I'm guessing, since you're new here, that you've never been to a Bad-Anon meeting?" Kessler just gave him a blank look. "C'mon, I can't wait to introduce you to the other guys! It's been, like, months since we got a new arcade game!" The human wrecking ball had already taken the conduit by one shoulder and was leading him off down the station promenade, chattering away cheerfully."

Zeke and Cole just looked at each other. "If he's a villain, I'm afraid to meet his hero," Cole muttered.

"Oh, that'd be me, Fix-It Felix Junior!" The diminutive man said, tipping his hat politely. "Ralph's my villain and my best friend."

"You have no idea just how weird that sounds," Garrus muttered from behind Shepard. "What game are you guys from, anyway?"

"I'm the protagonist of Infamous," Cole said. "And no, I work hard not to live up to the name, except when 'I' do," he pointed after Kessler.

"Intriguing. Implies time travel, alternate timelines, without breaking causality. Either different laws of physics," Mordin paused to sniff disdainfully, "or ignorant writing staff."

"Hey, give him a break," Shepard said. "I mean, we all just walked away and let the Collectors take over the ship because it was in the script."

"Our script occasionally sucks," Tali added.

"Since you're new here, would you like a tour?" Felix piped up. "I think I know just about every game here, plus most of the people left from games that left the arcade."

Shepard glanced at her squad, who shrugged their agreement. "Sure, what the hell. Just, I don't expect we'll be around all that long." She gestured to the two other Playstation characters walking with them. "Since we're on portable consoles and all."

"That must suck," Calhoun said. "Never being plugged in the same place, no friends outside your own game, always stuck doing the same thing with no breaks."

They walked through an archway labeled "Sugar Rush" and rode the cars down to the game, emerging on a racetrack built out of sugar confections of all kinds. "What the hell?" Lyla muttered. "Really? Driving race cars on a track made out of hardened chocolate and ice cream?"

"Wait until you see the diet cola volcano," Felix bubbled, "it's amazing!"

"Cole, just leave me here. I might die of a diabetic coma, but it'll be worth it," Zeke muttered, eying a forest built of candy canes.

"Eyes front, chubby," Calhoun admonished. "We're going to the races. Box seats and everything."

A sudden motor noise came to them as they approached the track, and without warning, a car built of graham crackers, gummy worms, and icing came roaring through the forest, screeching to a halt nearby. "Oh my gosh, new people!" The girl bounced out of the car, her gumball helmet bouncing away. "We got a new arcade game? When did it happen? Who are they? Are they staying for the race?"

"Ease down, sugar cube," Felix said, laughing. He made a round of introductions, and they all nodded politely. "This is Princess Vanellope, she runs things around here. Also the lady who gave us our box seats at the starting line."

"Nice to meecha, everyone!" She danced over to her helmet, plopping it back over her head. "I hope you enjoy the race. I'm going to knock the socks off of Taffeta." Grinning with a level of menace reserved for small children and the mentally insane, she jumped back into her racecar, gunning away in a spray of powdered sugar.

"Cole?" Zeke said.

"Yeah?"

"I changed my mind. If I stay here, I might go crazy. Or worse," he muttered, staring off after the departing car.

Garrus and Tali looked at each other. "Did he just," Garrus started.

"Don't even finish that thought," the quarian replied.

"Say, Zeke, do you remember the great big guy who greeted you?" Calhoun asked with deceptive calm.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"That's his niece." Zeke's gulp was clearly audible, and Shepard and Cole both worked hard to hide their smiles. "Also, far as her game is concerned, she's about nine, even when she talks like she's thirty?" The soldier turned her head to fix the chubby man with a death-cold stare. "Understand what I'm saying?"

He tipped his head quizzically. "You're going to dip me in fondue if I treat her wrong?" There was an audible slap as Cole's palm met his forehead. "Relax, I'm not stupid, I'm just programmed to sound like a dumb southern hick."

Their conversation stopped as they reached the stairs to the VIP box, climbing up to sit on the stands, surrounded by other video game characters, most of whom were waving flags or wearing t-shirts for the various racers. They watched everyone throw their coins onto the bouncing platforms to the cup, and climb into their racers, a dozen-plus cartoonish children dressed in candy-themed clothing. "You know, I could get used to this," Lyla commented to Mordin.

"Has certain appeal. Action, adrenaline, yet safety and childhood excitement," Mordin replied. "Good relaxation from lab work."

* * *

_Meanwhile, Empire City_

Alden Tate stood on the foot of the bridge, blending in with the crowd of clueless civilians. He hadn't left Empire City after escaping from the bridge; how could he? Kessler had taken away his birthright, Cole had stopped his rise to power, and if there was one lesson Alden had learned very well in the last twenty years, it was the power of revenge.

There was a cordon of police standing guard, after they let Cole, Kessler, and the Elvis impersonator with them leave. The weird tunnel itself was clearly visible, seeing as how the tunnel and its tracks extended about two feet over the side of the blocked bridge. There weren't enough police, however, to stop him from what he intended to do.

It took him about half an hour to walk back to his portion of the city, calling together the ragged fragments of the Dust Men. "We have a chance to take our revenge here and now," he proclaimed, harsh voice echoing in the tunnel warren where they gathered. "Cole isn't here to oppose us. Kessler isn't here to oppose us. Nobody but the cops stand in our way, and we know how useless that resistance is."

He turned around, glaring at the group. "In half an hour, go out into the streets. Strike fear into the hearts of the populace. Take back control of the city. The citizens will resist at first, of course," he paused to draw out the next words, "but their hero is gone. We will take back what is rightfully ours, and I will stop him from coming back."

The gang of criminals sent up a cheer, and Alden grinned. He moved to leave, grabbing one of them by the arm and pulling him along. "You, I have another task for," he rumbled.

Half an hour later, the sounds of gunfire echoed across the water as the Dust Men started their rampage, and with a nod from Alden, one of the last few conduits extended his power. Ruined vehicles fell to pieces, flying through the air and forming into the golem-like armor known and feared throughout Empire City. He stormed forward, attacking the police cordon while their attention was focused on the distant island, the red-hot fragments cutting them to pieces.

With police resistance down, Alden strode forward confidently. One citizen, either brave or stupid, threw a rock at him, and he responded by impaling the unfortunate woman on a stop sign post, nailing her to the side of the closed electronics store, pace steady. Reaching the cars, he turned to look back. "Keep the police away, and if Cole or Kessler appear back here, rejoin your fellow Dust Men." The conduit nodded silently, turning back towards the street and blowing apart a car to cut down the civilians cowering behind it.

Alden sat in the train, pushing the button and sending it forward. The tunnel passed by in a brief flash, the distance both extraordinarily long and impossibly short at once, and he stepped out of the new station into the promenade. Few characters were around, and he was glad of this, as it meant fewer people to get in his way.

His next step was interrupted by a blaring alarm, and a monochrome-blue figure dressed like a mall security guard flickered into existence in front of him. "Random security check," he drawled, and Alden blinked in surprise. "Name?"

Still blinking, he stepped sideways, only to have the blue man shift sideways without moving a step, continuing to block his path. "Alden Tate, rightful lord of Empire City!"

The man wrote it down on the clipboard, face never deviating from longstanding boredom. "Destination?"

He looked around quickly, settling on a promising looking sign above another archway nearby. "Street Fighter."

"Do you have any fruits or vegetables to declare?"

"No." Alden stood for a moment staring at the blue man, trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke at his expense, or if he was just _that clueless_.

"Thank you and enjoy your stay," the blue man said, and then vanished as he had appeared.

The conduit slowly clenched his fists, armor particles coalescing out of the air to armor them before he gained control of his temper. _No, not yet_, he thought, _I must find Cole and Kessler first, and figure how I might best destroy them._

* * *

_Meanwhile, Normandy science lab_

With Mordin gone, the lights in the lab were on power-saving mode. EDI was currently busy flirting with Joker, playing three dimensional chess against Kasumi, playing all three players in one team of _STG Ops: Tuchanka_ against Legion playing the other three players of the other team (and losing, she was frustrated to admit), as well as monitoring twenty-seven different safety conditions. While she was not tasked to capacity, she had nevertheless withdrawn awareness from several portions of the ship, such as the cargo bays and science lab.

Thus, when one of the seeker bugs stiffened, tiny eyes glowing amber, it went completely unremarked. Since the seeker lacked any sort of vocal apparatus, it also went unheard as it compelled the other two seekers to assist it in carving a small hole out the back corner of the sealed container Mordin had stashed them in. (Despite the success of his countermeasure, the salarian had not discarded the seekers, still having a dozen other ideas of what to use them for.)

It moved through the maintenance shafts onto the crew deck, crawling silently and nearly invisibly along the ceiling. Eventually, it reached the elevator, and waited next to the doors for nearly an hour, patient until an opportunity presented itself.

Eventually, its patience was rewarded when Samara emerged from the elevator, striding quickly to the restroom. When she returned, it dashed onto the elevator ceiling, staying out of the narrow camera angle, and then out into the station. Completely unnoticed by the three defenders, who were watching for a return of the train cars, it buzzed along near the ceiling, and into the tunnel, transitioning to the promenade station.

Below it, a blue man flickered into existence, puzzled at the apparent lack of any transients, and the seeker ignored it as it sought a more suitable host victim. Eventually it spotted a burly man in combat armor, flitting down to land on the back of his neck. The man froze in place, momentarily stuck in stasis, while the seeker delicately tore open the back of his neck and insinuated several thread-like extrusions between his spinal bones and into the nerves below. Once sure of the connection, it released the stasis, moving him around. It would take a short amount of time to get accustomed to the new body, and unsurprisingly he bumped into a smaller, filthy old man. "Are you looking to start something?" the old man threatened.

Through the eyes of his host, he looked down, taking in the posture, the expression, the metal fists. "You look like a man on a mission," Harbinger said. "Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Alden took in the massive armor, the advanced weapons, and the glowing amber eyes. "Perhaps you can, at that," he muttered.


	3. Recruitment Station

_Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay between updates. Most of this story is in disjointed scenes in my head, and I'm trying to string them together coherantly. This is what happens when the awesome idea for a fic comes to you in dreams._

* * *

"I'm bad, and that's good." Kessler glanced around the room, a tiny smile on his face, amused at the various characters arrayed as they spoke their slogan in unison. "So, hi everyone, I'm Ralph," the giant said with a grin, "and this is the villain of one of the new games who just got plugged in. His name's Kessler, and I hope he's going to tell us something about himself." Putting on that idiot puppy-dog grin, Ralph sat in a chair designed for someone a quarter his size.

He stepped forward and cleared his throat. "As he said, my name is Kessler, and I am the antagonist of the game Infamous."

"It's okay to say Villain," Inky chastised him. "We're all villains."

Kessler just snorted. "Trust me. You see, I'm also the hero, sort of." He grinned wider at the confused looks. "I travelled back in time, to set things up for my younger self to be forced to be the hero that I wasn't back then."

"My head hurts already," Bowser whined.

"So just what kinds of almost-villainy do you get up to?" Satan asked calmly, sipping a cup of tea. "Obviously, we haven't heard of your game."

Kessler waxed nostalgic about Empire City, the First Sons, and all the gang warfare he kicked off by making Cole into a conduit. An hour went by before he was done, and then they split off into letting each villain vent about their game world. Truthfully, most of them got along fairly well (when they weren't beating the snot out of each other, like M. Bison) and just used their weekly meetings as an excuse to hang-out and badmouth their heroes.

"I'm curious," Kessler finally got a chance to ask near the end. "Most of the games don't seem very well represented in here. No monsters from Hero's Duty? Or any racecar drivers?"

"Yes, well," Robotnik answered, "there's villains, and then there's _villains_."

"What he means, is that not all the characters were designed to be, um," Ralph hesitated for a moment, until the zombie groaned and smacked him, leaving a slimy smear on one knee. "You know. People." Kessler raised an eyebrow.

"The bugs in Hero's Duty aren't intelligent," Inky explained. "When they accidentally got out of their game, they nearly destroyed Sugar Rush. And some of the games, like that, don't really have villains, just competitors." The ghost shrugged. "We did extend an invitation to Taffeta, but she hasn't left her game since the bug incident."

"That sounds fascinating," the conduit replied. "But I suppose I should be getting back to find my younger self. It was interesting meeting all of you," he said as he moved towards the exit, several of the other villains already beating him out the doors.

"Absolutely. Please come back any time," Satan waxed eloquently, following him out. "Do you know where your companions went to?"

"Not really," he said, trailing off to stare through the crowd.

Satan followed his gaze, seeing nothing but one of the space marines walking through the crowd. "Problem?"

"I hope not," Kessler murmured. "Thought I saw someone familiar."

Shrugging, the demon lord ambled off, leaving the conduit standing in the middle of the crowd, staring fruitlessly into the morass of characters.

* * *

_An hour earlier, the concourse_

"What exactly would you need to help me?" Alden said.

"You want to stop these two people," Harbinger said. "Kill them outside your game, and who knows what will happen?" They both glanced at a Sonic service announcement. "Neither of us are arcade characters. It's possible a simple reload would fix everything. But you would have your revenge, however temporary."

The conduit nodded, considering it. "So what do you get out of it?"

"My directive is to harvest all advanced species, starting with humanity. The fact they might come from different franchises is irrelevant. The non-human species can safely be eliminated or converted to a more useful form," the Reaper explained dispassionately. "But my most reliable troops are stuck on the other side of the Normandy. The members of Shepard's squad are numerous enough to prevent me from bringing through my Collectors in sufficient number to pacify any local resistance."

His eyes narrowed. "So, you're just possessing this body right now?"

"Yes."

He glanced up at the signs, and grinned. "Well, while you're using that body, why don't you give me a tour of the game it came from?" He motioned to the archway for Hero's Duty. "Maybe there will be a more suitable host there for you."

Harbinger, through the seeker, plunged into the pathetic memories of his host, finding them all quite repetitive. Storm the tower, shoot lots of bugs. Bugs which were cybernetic in nature, and could absorb the properties of what they ate. A quite disturbing grin spread across the face of the space marine as the plan formed. "I believe there is. Let us attempt it."

They strode up to the archway, only to have the blue surge protector man flicker into existence in front of Alden. Snarling angrily, he answered the questions as quickly as possible, and they rode the train in silence. A few other marines were in the base, sacked out in their bunks, and they quietly walked through.

Without a player, the bugs were all inactive, and they moved quickly but quietly through the entire level until they reached the apex of the tower. "Now, it's quite simple," Harbinger explained. "We need to awaken a single one of these bugs, and allow it to eat me."

"Eat you?" Alden frowned. "That's not going to kill you?"

"The bugs absorb the properties of what they consume. If they eat a gun, they can then grow cybernetic firearms. If one of them eats my current host, it will then become a suitable host for me. And once I control one …"

"You can control all of them," Alden finished. This plan didn't sound too far-fetched, either, and he wasn't particularly worried. They were partly metal, after all, and Alden was _quite_ used to manipulating metal as the focus of his conduit powers. "In that case," he said, and promptly kicked one of the cyberbug eggs. It hit the stairs, cracking open and sending a small cyberbug crawling out, taking to the air like an angry wasp.

The conduit stepped behind the marine, who suddenly sagged as a different fist-sized insect creature detached from his neck, zooming straight at the cybug, practically taunting it. Half a second later, the cybug was twitching as it assimilated the seeker. "What the hell?" the marine blurted out. "Oh shit! Code black, code black!" he shouted into a useless radio as the bug glowed amber.

Before Harbinger could act, Alden just reached a hand out to the marine's armor, squeezing his fingers together. The armor contracted sharply, sending a sudden and fatal burst of blood pouring from the marine's mouth before he sagged to the ground. "Well?" Alden asked. "How's the new host?"

**"****This form is suitable,"** Harbinger said, voice much larger now. The cybug quickly set about consuming two dozen eggs, adding the material to its own mass until it stood close to human size. **"You wish to draw out your two opponents, and I need to harvest humanity. Shall we begin?"**

"Absolutely," Alden said, turning back towards the exit. "Let's go visit my game, shall we? You might be harvesting for a long time, since the average idiot on the street has a bad habit of respawning a couple of minutes after you kill them."

**"****Excellent,"** said the bug following him, kicking awake more cybugs and turning them to his control. At the bunkhouse next to the train, the swarm of cybugs took the sleeping marines completely by surprise, controlling them just as the seeker had to the first one. **"Take one of these to your world, they can begin the process."**

One of the space marines following at his heels like a big puppy, Alden quickly strode back through the game concourse and back to Infamous. His revenge, no matter how temporary it might be, would shortly be at hand. And it would be _glorious_.


	4. Invasion of the Concourse

_Author's Note: And so the villains' plot begins. I hope nobody was too fond of any specific character?_

* * *

They arrived in Empire City on the tram to the sound of gunfire and screams. Alden smiled broadly, while the Harbinger-possessed space marine had the emotional range of a statue of Stalin. "Shall we get started then?"

The marine stepped down, walking over to the cargo container blocking the road. "I need a device like this to be constructed," he said, dipping his hands in the blood of one of the dead cops and sketching. They went back and forth a few times as the conduit asked for more information. Then, gathering his focus, he started to pull together everything needed. A nearby lightpole toppled as he tore the wiring out of it; the electronics store nearby had every window shatter outward as he gutted the televisions within; the scattered remains of his Dustman's golem forming the shell of the device. "Now we need to test it," the marine said, looking around.

"Leave that to me," Alden said grimly, striding down the ramp and around behind it. Sure enough, a trio of panicked civilians started running out the other side. He yanked more cables to him, using them to tangle and trip the faceless extras, and dragged them brutally over to the device. "See? Easy enough. We go a couple of blocks and come back, and we'll have even more." He hawked and spit on the squirming black man. "Pathetic.

Wordlessly, Harbinger pulled one of them from his bonds, lifting the body effortlessly and placing it over the top of the device, spread-eagled painfully, large hands holding the poor man at shoulder and hip as he struggled. Then it jolted upwards, the ten foot spike impaling him through the back, right below the rib cage. Electricity arced up and down the device as he drained of color, skin turning grey, hair falling out, the clothes even disintegrating as the body was transformed.

Two minutes later, the spike retracted, and the husk stood on two feet, panting harshly. "Sufficient," Harbinger declared. "Construct more of these," he ordered as he loaded the screaming woman onto it, her voice dying away as it ripped through her body. "Mobile platforms might be superior. The faster we can convert the population, the faster we have a force capable of taking down these conduits you oppose."

"It'll take a little bit, no matter what," Alden warned. "Empire City isn't exactly centralized."

"So long as we can complete it before the arcade opens and the short-sighted flesh creatures can regain control of our games." The three husks instantly went charging down the street, and the marine body bent down to fiddle with the results. "I can construct other forms as well, given sufficient time."

"I'll leave you to it," the conduit said, moving off towards the bridge towards his stronghold. He had a mission, and a new ally … until he could rule unopposed. No one could treat him as an inferior and get away with it for long. Unknown to him, Harbinger was thinking along the same lines, even as it placed the marine body onto the spike with two other civilians, the bodies fusing together into a Scion form.

* * *

Three hours later, Shepard had given her crew the all clear. Almost everyone had come out to the game concourse, except for Jacob, who was still mid-workout, and Zaeed, who went back on board to take a nap. Joker had hobbled around for a bit before returning. They had watched several races, played a couple sports challenges, and watched the various fighting characters put on a competition. Currently, Cole and Zangeif were sparring, the younger conduit currently ahead 1-0, with Blinky and Pinky running a betting table off to one side.

He was almost at the point of scoring his second win when an alarm suddenly went off in the concourse. Everyone paused, looking around, before the voice of the surge protector came over the speakers. "Unauthorized game characters entering onto the station from gate twenty-eight."

"Which one's gate twenty-eight?" Shepard, Garrus, and Kessler all asked. A sudden, high-pitched scream echoed from the directions of their games. "That figures," Lyla Shepard complained, already swapping her avatar back to armor and weapons. The rest of her team was with her as they ran in that direction, following Ralph as the giant cut a path through the crowd.

Three off-duty marines had already formed up with Calhoun, with Felix at their center. "They're killing game characters," Ralph said quietly, his voice filled with shock. "Hey!" he suddenly shouted, loud enough that the entire crowd of husks, currently busy attempting to seize and dismember various candy people, fight spectators, and several koopas, paused. "You leave them alone!" Ralph howled, charging forward, leaping thirty feet to the nearest one and punching it. The husk flew the last forty feet to crash into the wall, still thirty feet off the floor, where it hung.

The rest of the crowd of husks pouring out of Infamous' gate instantly turned on him. The various fighting characters all charged forward, firing guns, hurling fireballs, spells, chi blasts, or just wading into melee. While Calhoun's marines escorted Felix around, letting him heal injured but not dead characters, the Normandy crew were in familiar teams, breaking up crowds of husks with biotics and plasma blasts, shooting with abandon just above the height of most of the game characters. Zangeif and Bison were tag-teaming the husks, one of them punching an interloper into the air for the other to volley-ball spike. Pinky, Inky, and Blinky were possessing the husks, then leading them docilely to Pac Man to be eaten. Sonic bowled through, toppling them to the ground, while Mario went hopping across the sea of heads.

"How the fuck did our husks get into his game?" Miranda shouted.

"How the hell should I know?" Cole asked. "Hey, old man!" He fired off a set of rockets before letting Tali shock him with an overload to recharge. "What did you do?"

"This is not my doing," Kessler complained, summoning another trio of floating robots. "I am just as mystified as you are."

"Maybe we can force these guys back far enough to have a conversation," Calhoun sniped at them before kicking a husk between the legs. "That's not fair," she told it before slamming her assault rifle muzzle between its teeth and opening fire.

The two conduits looked at each other, and dove into the crowd, blades of electricity forming from their fists and tearing them a hole. The Normandy crew, backed by Mario, Ken, and Calhoun, followed them in, holding their flanks secure. Taking in deep breaths, the two men gathered their power, and let it loose.

Lightning bolts the size of Cole's head tore down from the ceiling, the thunder of their passage obliterating the complaining alarm from the surge protector, blowing massive holes in the crowd of husks, each bolt turning three or four to ash and injuring a half dozen more. Kessler's stream shot out from his hands, slicing through each husk in line in a half second flat before moving on to the next one. In the end, both of their attacks reached the station at the same time before petering out.

With fewer bodies in the way, they could see the train cars arriving, three dozen husks clinging to the cars and each other. The new enemies leapt from the tracks and rushed for the concourse as the cars began their ride back into the game. "What the _fuck_ is going on here?" Lyla challenged one of the husks, right before sticking her Widow in its face and pulling the trigger. Satan gave her a thumbs up as he incinerated two more, and the zombies around the edge were making complaining moans as they bit their prey to death.

It took another ten minutes, but the massive surge had cut down the horde enough for the various heroes and villains to reach the cars. "Alright, you know what these things are," Calhoun challenged.

"Yeah, and they shouldn't be _here_," Shepard complained. "They're people, converted into mindless cybernetic shock troops. But how the hell did they get into his game?" She pointed an accusing finger at Cole. "Nobody but my crew has come off the Normandy."

"Right now, that's less important," Kessler said. "Bystanders respawn in Empire City. The only limit is the camera location. So whoever's doing this has a literally infinite supply of pawns." He gestured out to the concourse, where non-combat people were weeping over the dead, or what remained of them. Luigi was slowly dragging a sheet over the mangled orange body of Q*Bert, and Felix was still using his magic hammer to fix as many people as he could.

"Fine. Let's go find them, so I can wreck them!" Ralph said loudly, clenching one fist above his head.

"Ralph, that's not your game," Calhoun cautioned. The various fighting game crew were torn between which one of them to agree with.

"It's not mine, either, but I'm sure as hell going in there," Shepard muttered. "EDI," she said into her omni-tool, "tell Zaeed and Jacob to get off their asses and search the ship. Somehow, the Collectors got out here, and I want to know how."

"We'll appreciate the help, that's for sure," Zeke said, reloading his dinky looking revolver.

"How do you go into a fight carrying one of those?" Kasumi asked him, appalled.

"Eh, that's easy. My character bio says I'm too dumb to be scared and a good enough shot to not get myself killed," Zeke replied breezily. "I like that outfit, but I think it needs a skirt instead of those pants." She promptly cloaked. "Damnit, I never have the luck with the ladies."

"Onto the cars," Cole ordered, getting into the front with Grunt, Calhoun and Ralph crowding into the one right behind him, and everyone else clung to the cars as best they could. "Next stop, Empire City," and he hit the button.


	5. Counter Strike: Empire City

_Author's Note: No, I haven't forgotten about this story. I've been really busy at work, so my writing time has gone mostly into Ascension, Fistful, Reloaded, and Torment._

* * *

It took two train loads to reach Empire City. First they had to clear the husks off, but something in the programming held the train cars until they were ready to return. Cole, Kessler, and Zeke, accompanied by Calhoun, Shepard, Grunt, and Legion, took the first train through. The streets immediately around the bridge were full of husks, at least a hundred of them, with more stumbling in along the main streets. "What the hell?" Cole said. "I'm starting to doubt your innocence around here," he threatened his older self.

"Cole, all of my actions were carefully designed to craft you into the hero needed to stop the Beast," Kessler said wearily. "Wanton destruction for its own sake isn't my style. And how would I get the means from her game in the first place?" He pointed at Shepard, currently bashing a husk in the face with her sniper rifle.

"Speaking of her game, shouldn't we be helping?" Cole and Kessler both watched the krogan charge into the mass of husks, trampling five of them before he ran into the wrecked police car.

"Oh, very well, if you insist." Raising a hand, Kessler summoned more floating robots, who began dive bombing the crowd of husks.

"Took you long enough!" Lyla shouted as she blew away another one.

"Cole-Conduit, the creation of husks in our world requires the use of a device called a Dragon's Tooth. We must locate and destroy them to stop the flow of husks." Legion said the whole thing without pausing in its own sniping work, his last shot blowing up a car down the street and sending a trio of husks tumbling into the water.

The second trainload of cars arrived then, with Ralph and the rest of the Normandy crew. "Alright. Kessler, you take the north island with all the First Sons. I'll take the trashbagger territory, and Zeke can take this island." He glanced around at the others. "Shepard, you know your people, so how do you want to split everyone up?"

"Someone needs to take the rearguard," Calhoun interrupted. "Luckily, I've got three marines here, who are going to do that job. Aren't you?" she asked them menacingly. All three immediately saluted, and began setting up protective barricades.

"Alright. Garrus, Mordin, Ralph, and I will go with Kessler," Shepard said. "Samara, Tali, Legion, and Thane with Cole. That leaves Grunt, Jack, Miranda, and Kasumi with Zeke." Jack and Miranda eyed each other in distaste at the thought of working together, but said nothing. "How do we get around?"

"Uh, mostly we walk," Cole said.

"The bridges to the north island were both damaged in the blast, but fortunately I can work around that," Kessler said.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get moving!" Shepard complained.

Kessler grinned, extending his hands towards his four temporary companions, and in a crackle of electricity, they all vanished. "Don't tell me," Tali said, "you can't do that."

"Sorry, no. My usual mode of transportation is riding the power lines, but I don't think the rest of you can follow me," he said easily, already walking down the bridge.

"I do not believe jumping onto live power cables would be beneficial for our health," Samara said gravely, right before shooting a husk in the eye as it rounded the corner from the alley nearby.

As they walked off, Zeke looked between the two women, clearly ogling Miranda's ass and Jack's near toplessness. "Well, ladies, shall we get this started?"

Before he could say anything likely to get him bodily harm from one or both of the biotics, Grunt shouldered him out of the way, leaving the chubby guy stumbling down the ramp. "We need to move," the krogan threatened as he stepped into the street, leveled his shotgun, and blasted a husk in half. "Are you going to lead us, as my Battlemaster said, or will you continue attempting mating songs with females out of your league?"

Zeke scowled, his rolling gait taking him the rest of the way down, to shoot a husk square between the eyes from forty feet away. "I get so little respect, it's making me wonder if the writers are even going to put me in Infamous 2," he complained. "I'm not even sure what we're supposed to be looking for."

They all paused, as a flatbed truck screeched to a halt several blocks away. The back of it was crowded with husks, as well as several of the Dust Men, two of them levering a screaming pedestrian onto the spike, converting the unfortunate woman into a husk as they watched. "Oh, man, that is just _nasty_," Zeke complained.

"That's what we're looking for," Miranda said, lining up her pistol and putting a round into the unfortunate woman before the transformation was complete. Grunt was already charging forward, slamming husks out of the way as he blazed away at the terrorists on the truck. "Where did Jack go?"

That was answered a moment later, as a hotwired police car came slewing out of the pedestrian tunnel, launching itself up a pile of rubble into the air, to come crashing down on the dragon's tooth and one of the trashbaggers. The other one went flying as a shockwave ripped off the car door from the inside to knock him to the ground at Grunt's feet in very short-lived surprise. "I'll give her points for style," Kasumi said nearby, her stealth net disabled as she jabbed a third Dust Man in the neck with her electroshock omni-tool.

"Hey, that guy had a rocket launcher! I can put that to good use," Zeke crowed, picking up the heavy weapon and settling it over one shoulder. "There's got to be more than just the one of those, right?"

"Probably," Miranda said. "Let's get moving and try to find the next one. Where are you going?" she asked as he started to walk down the street.

"Uh, to find them, duh!" he answered.

She pointed at the truck. "We have their vehicle. It'll be faster, and we can probably just run over any husks in the way." He fidgeted nervously, and she sighed. "Don't tell me. You can't actually drive."

"They didn't program it in!" he protested, before sighing heavily and laboriously climbing onto the back of the truck as Grunt yanked off the now-ruined car. "Fine, let's move on out then. Take a left up there at the light."

Kasumi had beaten the other two woman into the driver seat, so Miranda slipped into the shotgun seat while the other three clung to the back of the cab as it jolted into motion. "If you use one piece of trucker slang, I will shove you out that door," Miranda threatened.

"Please, I have more class than that. Even if I am slumming it by stealing such a pathetic vehicle. Where's the luxury sports cars?" the thief lamented as she bumped it over another husk.

* * *

_Meanwhile, Empire City North_

The five of them blinked back into existence on the small platform in the middle of a giant crater. Ralph, whose feet materialized right on the edge, windmilled his arms desperately for a moment before sliding down the slope. "Whoa, what happened here?" he whispered in awe.

"I did," Kessler said simply, walking down the smoother path. "A hundred thousand dead in a fraction of a second, so that hopefully a hundred million don't have to die ten years down the road."

"The ruthless calculus of war?" Garrus asked darkly, settling his assault rifle.

"Still dislike time travel," Mordin muttered, mostly to himself. "Implies lazy, ignorant writing staff."

"The fastest way to scan the city would probably be via the trains," Kessler said, ignoring their byplay as he stepped up onto the city street. "Going by foot will be slower, but solves the problem of getting back down."

"Why would we have problems getting down?" Shepard asked in confusion.

"Because the programmers didn't set up the trains to actually _stop_ at the stations," the conduit added dryly. "Look, could that be what we're looking for?" On the patio in front of one of the small dockside snack bars, a quartet of trashbaggers were busy dragging protesting civilians over and thumping them onto a rough-looking dragon's tooth one at a time.

"Yeah, that's it alright," Garrus said, calmly beheading one dustie in a single burst in the same second that Shepard literally dis-armed one with her Widow. "I think they know we're here now."

"Hey! That's not a nice way to treat people!" Ralph shouted from right behind them, and a moment later, a full-sized pick-up truck flew over their head, shattering the dragon's tooth, a third Dust Man, and the entire front of the snack bar. The fourth one took one look at their group and turned to run, only to have Mordin set him on fire.

"Was that a pizza delivery sign on the door?" Garrus asked as they trotted down the street to the cheers of the civilians.

"I think so," Kessler said, "but I don't see why it matters."

"You could say his death just got," the turian paused to whip out a pair of sunglasses, settling them on his face right behind his visor, "delivered." Shepard promptly smacked him in the back of the head underneath his fringe, causing the shades to slip off, catching on his mandibles. "Ow. Thank you mistress, may I have another?" he added sarcastically.

"Not until we're back on the Normandy," Lyla said sweetly.

"This is so sweet, I can feel diabetes coming on," Kessler muttered sarcastically.

"Can synthesize human insulin via omni-tool," Mordin chimed in helpfully. "Ah, more opponents," he added, pointing down the street to a dozen trashbaggers rounding up civilians.

"Hey! You hurt my friends! I'm gonna wreck you!" Ralph shouted, immediately lumbering past them in his gorilla-like stride, one hand holding up a car as a bullet shield.

"Shouldn't we help him?" Garrus asked.

"Heck with that, I want popcorn and a chair," Lyla said, watching the giant lift one guy by the head and use him as a club, loud enough to hear the bones shattering from fifty feet away.

Kessler summoned another trio of drones. "Fly, my pretties," he ordered dryly. "Collateral damage is acceptable."

Shepard frowned at him. "Those people are civilians."

"And five minutes after we leave, they'll respawn with no memory of it," he replied. "Unlike the Dust Men, whose reappearance is directly linked to the amount of territory they hold."

"Fine, whatever," Shepard sighed. "Can we go find out how the hell they got these dragon's teeth from my fucking game?"

Grimly they started forward, looking for the next set of enemies. Standing on a rooftop nearby, Alden Tate watched Kessler through grim eyes and picked up a radio. "Prepare the park," he ordered, and leapt off the opposite side of the building.


End file.
